


Flower Boy

by indigomini



Series: The World Without [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 17:03:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15005381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigomini/pseuds/indigomini
Summary: Bonus drabble from The World Without AU. Kyungsoo finds out what Jongin's been doing.





	Flower Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't read this if you haven't read The World Without. It contains.... tons of spoilers, because it takes place after the story ends. It's just a drabble, and I really hope to continue it into a full-blown sequel, but I just really had to get this out today. :)

There are fairies in the orchard today. Over a dozen, easily.

_ Real, actual fairies _ , glimmering as the last minutes of darkness released control of the skies.

The thrilling part is not just that they are fairies, but  _ older _ , fully double-winged fairies. Watching his face projected magically onto tiny glowing faces was utterly surreal. He could swear he even saw a deeper indigo-hued one before his presence scared them away. Where could they possibly have been hibernating this entire time? This could be huge, giving hope that potentially so many others survived the Break in their own ways. Kyungsoo frowns as he goes through his camera roll. It seems fairies are impossible to photograph with current-day technology. The tech that made it possible to do so pre-Break had been destroyed. All he has to show the university are some blurry splotches of light. He supposes it will have to do. Maybe they will return tomorrow. The orchard has a way of attracting all kinds of magical things. Hopefully, he can find a specialist to come out and observe within the week.

These are difficult times, the Rebuilding, but it’s also a joyous period. Work has been arduous, racing to cultivate and distribute crops that will enrich the soils, making it possible for everyone to eat steady meals with fresh, safe food once again. He’s discovered that singing to the saplings encourages growth, higher nutrition, and greater yields, but has been unsuccessful at teaching others the art. It might be limited to just him for now, given his ability.

Jongin is nowhere to be found. 

The first double new moons blasted all of the cell phone towers, the surge of magic overwhelming their circuits. It is fortunate that they were able to get things back in order within the month, and that it seemed to just be an anomaly. Unbelievably fortunate. Technology had always worked in tandem with magic, so it shouldn't have been a surprise, but everyone heaved a collective sigh of relief nonetheless. One less thing they had to panic about.

It doesn't seem to matter now. Jongin's phone rings in the bedroom, sitting on the charger. No demigod nearby. Kyungsoo hangs up with a frown. Why is he paying for two phones if the jerk won't even carry it around… Jongin only seems to ever use his phone to watch cooking videos and play videogames, which, while Kyungsoo finds that very relatable, means that all of his fans end up calling Kyungsoo instead. And the savior of the world has a lot of fans.

Teaching an extinct forest nymph to live among humans is a thankless job. Jongin has lived lifetimes by himself. He has never been a part of  _ any  _ society. Up until two months ago, he would still sometimes wander about naked, and oftentimes, even start masturbating whenever the mood struck, in the presence of friendly company or otherwise.

How does one teach etiquette without shame? Especially not to a child, but to someone who has witnessed dozens of civilizations rise and fall? Most social mores don’t make sense when you have to explain them to someone with a blank slate. Really, what purpose do most social conventions serve anyway?

Their bond tells Kyungsoo to head east, so east he goes. He inhales deeply, feeling morning dew weigh down young blades of grass in his path. His powers have grown stronger than ever before, whether due to proximity to a nymph, the regular, increased surges of magic, or just simply age and experience in a world where magic exists once again. He can reach out now, beyond what he can physically touch. A long forgotten sense, brought out of atrophy and fortified daily. It feels like he'd lived with a punctured lung for years, and is able to breathe fully at long last.

When the ground gets springy beneath his feet, he pauses to remove his shoes. This is Jongin’s domain, more so even than their own lands. He scoped this area out a few months ago. He’s never invited Kyungsoo along on any of his treks, but has never explicitly stated that he could not go there too. Kyungsoo’s schedules have been too busy for casual exploration. But the air is sweet and fragrant, which is a good sign. Maybe with the magic back, Jongin’s powers have returned as well. It would be the least that could happen, after all he has gone through.

The moss is so thick and dense here, it feels like the plushest of carpets. The tickling sensation is pleasing in between his toes. The usual wildflowers bracket the path, the first rays of sunlight touching the petals sending tiny sparks of gold glitter into the air. Jongin’s signature in his magic. The sacred lotuses in their pond do the same, only stronger. Gold as the sun himself.

Speaking of the sun himself, Kyungsoo can make out a figure standing by a tall…  _ something _ … up ahead, atop a small hill. It’s been almost half an hour’s walk. He breaks into a swift jog, trying to stay silent in case Jongin is concentrated on something.

The tall something appears to be massive slabs of stone, stacked together at the apex of the hill with a capstone balanced on top. It looks like an enormous, precariously balanced table. A goindol. From what he can recall, goindol, or dolmens anyway, have existed for at least seven millennia, and served as tombs or star charts. Or those were the long-held beliefs, anyway.

There are no lines in the wildflowers, where the stones could have been dragged up the hill. So unless Jongin has some impressive rock-slinging powers that would’ve been very useful for combat a few years ago, this has been here all of this time.

“Jongin,” he says softly, once he crests the hill.

The nymph’s eyes open and he smiles brightly. “My heart,” he whispers back, holding his arms out for an embrace.

Jongin is nude again. Something Kyungsoo’s learned to just deal with, so long as they’re not around people. It’d make sense for someone who’s gone so long without wearing clothing to dislike the restrictions of them. It’d be like leashing a cat, he supposes. He buries his face into the crook of Jongin’s neck and inhales deeply as he squeezes the nymph’s waist. The most fragrant meadows pale in comparison to Jongin’s scent up close.

Once he steps back, Jongin directs him to turn around and look around them. The fields are high with wildflowers of all sorts, some of which  _ must _ be new species, as he’s definitely never seen them before. Young trees as well, some of them growing squat and broad, the branches sticking straight up like fork tines. Others, the bark mirror smooth and glossy, but thinner than his wrist.

“You’ve been busy,” Kyungsoo remarks, impressed, turning back to give Jongin an approving grin.

Jongin reaches up and scratches at a spot in his blue-black hair. His flower buds are coming back in for the season, and he’s been complaining about how much they itch when they start blooming. More than once, Kyungsoo has had to smack his hand away to keep him from rumpling the delicate olive blossoms. Catching Kyungsoo’s reprimanding gaze, Jongin sheepishly drops his hand and points out to the flowers again. A distraction. “Look,” he says.

“So many new flowers. They’re beautiful.”

“The flower is me,” Jongin answers, beaming broadly. He sounds very excited, his accent more pronounced than usual. He taps his own chest, above his heart. “The tree, also, I made.”

“You made the flowers,” Kyungsoo corrects gently, emphasizing the plural forms, “you made the trees.”

Jongin’s hands flutter in front of him as he tries to piece together his flurry of thoughts into words. “I am the  _ flower _ ,” he points by their feet, to a single red rose. Where they normally grow in thorny bushes, this one sprouts out of the ground like a dandelion. He points back at the goindol. “The jumper. It is a river.”

Reading the lack of comprehension in Kyungsoo’s face, Jongin sighs in frustration and cups Kyungsoo’s cheeks, pulling him forward eagerly. Their lips touch, and the red behind Kyungsoo’s eyelids is replaced by a bright rush of visions of the goindol here and several dozen more, some in verdant areas, others in wastelands. Jongin breaks the seal and pulls back, letting his vision slowly settle to normal.

“It jumps,” Jongin says, wide-eyed and waiting for Kyungsoo to react. 

The glowing freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose are still out of focus. Kyungsoo has to grasp onto his forearms to stabilize himself. Communication is one thing, but visions always disorient him.

“It jumps?” he repeats dumbly.

“I—” Jongin waves an arm over the field, gesturing back to the stone again. “I make it. And it jumps.”

Fighting nausea, Kyungsoo swallows hard and breathes through his nose. It’s fading. Squinting at the rock and seeing nothing obvious jump out at him, he looks back at Jongin. “It jumps… like a portal?”

“Port. Ol?”

Obviously, if Jongin understood synonyms, he would’ve used the more apt one. Genius, Kyungsoo.

_ ‘Portal,’ _ he tries.

_ ⹁⹁It is a jumper. It is a river. A portal?,, _ Jongin pauses.  _ ⹁⹁Yes, it is a portal too.,, _

It feels like cold stone to him, personally. Impressive looking, but dead. Kyungsoo gnaws on his lower lip as he looks over the goindol once more.

_ 'Where do you go everyday?’ _ he asks, wincing as he realizes there is no filter in the connection. Jealousy and anxiety coated every word. This is an unusual feeling, one he will have to sort out later. He should not feel small.

_ ⹁⹁Go? I go nowhere. I come here, and I make flowers. I made trees! Did you see? It was along the river! It jumped all the way down the river! Each time further than the previous, wider. I am helping!,, _

The term 'river’ means more in Jongin's voice than a stream of water, but Kyungsoo's understanding of it is shallow. There is little that he knows of goindols. There is more here, in this country, than anywhere else on the planet. 40% of the world's dolmens, roughly, are located right here within this small peninsula.

Jongin's magic could be spurring the growth of other areas… The places where dolmens are located. It could be spreading out slowly.

_ ‘Is that safe?’ _ Kyungsoo can hear the panic rise up in his voice. Jongin has done enough for the planet. Facing death and losing his tree is more than enough. They are rebuilding fine. It might be slow, but humanity is making it work, this time around.  _ ‘You need to be safe.’ _

_ ⹁⹁I—,, _ Jongin grunts in frustration and spins him around again, gesticulating at the field around them.  _ ⹁⹁This is me! I am the flowers here. They grow, and it is… not like my tree. Or our orchard. But it is like… food? Not food.,, _ He pauses, pursing his lips in thought.

_ 'Is it safe…’ _ is all Kyungsoo cares to know for now.

Jongin is thoroughly amused in his answer,  _ ⹁⹁It takes nothing from me. It is the river that does it. Like… like carrying pollen from flowers,, _

“Ew,” he says aloud, out of reflex. “What have you been doing?”

Jongin pinches at his side and scowls. C’mon, it was a  _ little _ funny.

“You are…  _ dirt mind _ ,” Jongin taps Kyungsoo above his ear. “Right in here.”

“Dirty-minded.”

“A teen- _ ager _ , dirty-minded,” Jongin sneers.

He looks around again. The sun is fully out by now. The hill is packed dense with flora, and with the warmth of the sun, each plant is sending out weak new bits of magic in the form of glowing, golden dust. It goes right through his hand as it whirls around him, responding to wind currents but careless of human mass. On top of some trees are epiphytes, orchids of wild new varieties. Others hold vines, some creating intricate, lace-like lattice patterns. He thinks back to when he first stepped out of the house this morning.

“There were fairies in the orchard,” Kyungsoo says breathlessly.

“I know,” Jongin answers. “They asked if they could see. I say, ‘don’t eat the flowers, but it is okay.’”

The flora will help bring back wildlife and magical creatures, hopefully. New life that is stronger in this new world. He can see the road ahead, so much work to do, to ensure that something like the Break can never happen again. Or if it ever does, that they are better prepared for it this time around. They can’t afford to take any of this for granted anymore. And he can’t let Jongin shoulder the weight of this, no matter if he insists it is safe.

But that can wait until tomorrow, at least. It is a rare day off, and the sun is warm and welcoming, the air here is sweetened with the most complex blend of florals he’s ever smelled. Tomorrow, he will get started.

“You’re lucky I’m dirty-minded, flower man,” Kyungsoo muses, crooking a smile as he leans back against Jongin’s chest. He taps his temple. “I knew from the moment I saw you that you were a pervert. You’d wilt if it was sterile and pure in here.”

Tilting up, he gets a faceful of Jongin’s pout. “I do not like this talk. I want to break fast.”

“Will the fairies be back?” he asks after he nods and follows Jongin back west.

“They are there already, probably,” Jongin says, hand reaching out to skim the top of some taller flowers. “There are little ones, and they need shelter.”

He can’t even picture baby fairies right now. It’d break his mind. Instead, he turns his attention to the hill again, trying to commit to memory the strange new flowers that he sees, to see if he can draw them out later, for study. Maybe it will be okay to obtain some samples. Turning to Jongin to ask, he watches as the nymph snatches a bright pink flower out of a bush by the stem, and cram the bud into his mouth.

“Jongin… what are you doing…” No, he really did just eat the flower. Is  _ still _ eating the flower, and is going back for seconds. This is the man who wouldn’t let Kyungsoo relocate the beehive he found over half a kilometer away from their house. Just… casually snacking on self-grown magic flowers.

“I shad I’m ‘ongry,” Jongin garbles out. “Dey tase’ like candy.”

“You said this is you. Your flowers. That you made.”

“You eat the fish from the pond,” Jongin shrugs.

Kyungsoo’s cheeks burn instantly. That was almost half a year ago. “That was a special circumstance,” he argues. “Those people’s dog batted it out of the water, and it was injured. What else could we do? Let it just go to waste? People died of starvation!”

“But you ate it.”


End file.
